


I am garbage at titles oh no

by Anonymous



Category: 1917 (Movie 2019)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Gay Sex, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rain Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:02:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25171309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Will and Tom have sex in the rain. I'm sorry
Relationships: Tom Blake/William Schofield
Kudos: 34
Collections: Anonymous





	I am garbage at titles oh no

When Tom felt the first raindrop on his head, he ignored it. He was a bit, well, busy at the moment—his tongue entangling with Will’s. When more came down, though, he pulled away and looked up. The sky was filled with dark grey clouds, not a bit of clear blue in sight. 

“We should go inside,” Tom said, his finger still hooked in Will’s belt loop.

“Yes,” Will replied. But they didn’t—Tom leaned back up for a kiss and Will gladly accepted it, pressing Tom up against a tree. Tom brushed aside the few droplets that were hitting his face and focused on the sensation of Will’s lips against his, of the fiery feeling of Will kissing down his neck.

The rain didn’t stop, and neither did Tom and Will.

“We should go inside,” Tom gasped breathlessly, as Will started unbuttoning Tom’s jeans. 

“We should,” Will said, but they continued, Will nipping down Tom’s throat.

Tom sort of wanted to move and sort of wanted to stay. This was amazing, passionate— but also wet and cold, and Tom missed their warm bed.

“We don’t even have lube out here,” Tom complained, but Will spit into his hand and wrapped his long fingers around Tom’s throbbing cock, and all of Blake’s complaints melted away on the rhythm of Will’s hand.

“Oh, Christ,” he moaned, tucking his face over Will’s shoulder and clinging to him, his fingers making their way into Scho’s now damp hair. 

The rain was really coming down now, and both of them were soaked. Tom’s curls were clinging to his face and he was shivering, half with cold half with need.

“We should go inside,” he breathed.

“We should,” came Will’s response, but neither of them made a move to follow what they were saying. Instead, Tom’s fingers found their way into Will’s trousers, and Will groaned and kissed Tom again. It didn’t take long for Tom’s pants to be shoved down, for him to be pressed face-first up against his tree as Will worked him open. Spit again instead of lube, maybe a little rain, and Will was soon two fingers deep, his free arm fixed around Tom’s neck—no pressure, just there, and Tom was begging for more, for Will to take him.

“Turn around,” Will instructed, and soon Tom’s back was against the tree, his legs around Will’s waist. The bark was pressing into Tom’s back, the rain was absolutely slamming down on them, but Tom didn’t care, he didn’t care at all, he just wanted more and wanted it there and now.

Will fucked into him, slowly at first and then with a heightened pace. At first, Will’s face was tucked into Tom’s neck, but as it got more heated, he moved to look Tom in the eye, and Tom could see the intense _need_ in them, which sent fire into his groin. He moaned, then moaned more as he realised that the two of them were both still mostly clothed— Will’s pants and shirt were still on, and Tom’s sweater and shirt were both still clinging to him, soaked through.

“We should go inside,” Tom said again, and Will laughed a bit.

“We should,” he breathed, but it soon became hot panting into Tom’s mouth as he grew closer. 

“We’re fucking in the rain—we’re insane,” Will said heatedly. “Christ, puppy, I’m fucking you even though we’re getting soaked, just because of what you do to me.

Tom whimpered and buried his face in Will’s neck, tugging on Will’s hair. Will’s breath audibly stuttered and he lost his rhythm, coming to a halt.

Fixing Tom with an intense look, he gazed into those blue eyes.

“Let’s go inside,” he said, and soon they were stumbling around in the kitchen, too impatient for the bed, Tom yanking the rest of Will’s clothes off.

Will did the same, firmly yanking off the damp sweater that clung to Tom’s skin.

“You’re beautiful, baby,” Will told him affectionately, rubbing his thumb against Tom’s cheek.

“Make me feel good, Will, please,” Tom said, and Will dropped to his knees then and there without hesitation. Tom’s mouth dropped into a silent gasp as Will took him into his mouth, very slowly sucking down the length of his cock.

“Jesus,” Tom groaned, “Oh, Jesus, Will, there!”

Will followed instructions, but Tom suddenly wanted to be in his arms, wrapped in his lover’s embrace, looking into his eyes again.

“Will,” he whined, “Fuck me. Here, on the floor. Please.”

“Changed your mind, puppy?” Will asked, pulling up to kiss him. “I thought you wanted me to make you feel good, but now you want me to fuck you?”

“Fucking me _will_ make me feel good,” Tom said with a bit of a laugh, and Will returned a chuckle. 

“Can’t argue with that,” he said, and Tom sat himself on the ground, Will positioning himself over him.

As Will started to thrust into him again, Tom let out a strangled noise and tilted his head back against the tile, listening to Will’s heavy breathing, savoring the feeling of Will on top of him.

“Fuck, I’m close,” Will said heatedly. “Christ, puppy, I’m already close because of what you do to me.”

“Will,” Tom whined, “Fuck— you feel good.”

“Touch yourself, angel, I know you want to,” Will breathed into his ear, and Tom’s hand found his way down to his cock, trying to match Will’s thrusts the best he could.

Heat was building into him, making the wetness of the rain melt away, making his hips buck upwards against Will and making him whine.

“Jesus, Tom,” Will hissed, “Baby, you keep making sounds like that, and I’m not going to be able to hold on much longer.”

Tom was fine with that—he was already so close, so close, and Will noticed Blake’s movements getting needier.

“Gonna come for me, love?” Will asked, and Tom hitched his ankle around Will’s waist, digging it against sinew.

“Christ, yes,” Tom said. “Fuck—Will—fuck!” And then he was spilling onto himself, and Will was spilling into him, and they were moaning into each other’s mouths, Tom’s free hand tightening around Will’s arms, nails digging into the skin. 

“God, Tom,” Will said, almost reverently, brushing Tom’s dampened curls out of his face. “The things you do to me.”

Tom leaned up and kissed him, biting down on Will’s lip, and Will pulled away and shook his head. 

“Even though you’re a right bastard,” Will finished, chuckling, his voice a bit scolding. He rolled off Tom and groaned, looking up at the ceiling.

“I need a bath,” Tom said and Will nodded his head in agreement. “I think I do too,” Will said, laughing. “What do you say I get one started for us?”


End file.
